


A New Life Awaits

by anxious_fangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Depression, Drunk Dean, Drunk Dialing, Drunken Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Everything, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fainting, Gen, Humor, I Can Rhyme Words, Low Self Esteem, Other, Painting, Panic Attacks, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Rescue, Swearing, Torture, Vampires, Worry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:10:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5537669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxious_fangirl/pseuds/anxious_fangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've been living with your family in your small and quiet town, but then something happens that changes your life forever: you walk into the Winchester's life, by literally walking through their motel room. Will you ever get back to your old life, or will you have to start over again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I will try to update this as much as I possibly can*
> 
> *I WILL ALSO BE UPDATING THESE CHAPTERS*
> 
> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*

It was going on 10 o'clock at night, but I had insisted on finishing my current project that I have been painting for the past eleven days. On average, it took me a week to finish a picture, but this was for my best friend, who's birthday was coming up. It was a Tiger Lily, which just happened to be her favorite flower; I knew she was going to cherish it forever.

I was standing next to the island counter in the kitchen with all of my paints, brushes, paper towels, and other necessities laid out before me. My right hand had pink, black, and orange all over my fingers because of my touch-ups and because I always got messy while painting; it's simply part of the job description. My clothes--luckily--were untouched from the paint, but my back was killing me from leaning over for so many hours at a time.

Anyways, dad--like always--just shook his head with a wide smile when I told him I was going to stay up for a while longer. He proceeded to tell me for the third time to not stay up "too late", before telling me goodnight and walking to bed.

I focused my attention back on the flower, and lightly dipped my brush in the orange paint to do another coat on the almost finished project. My music was softly playing next to me; who would have thought that 80s music would help me paint better?

I smiled at my silly thought and continued to work, occasionally standing up straight to stretch out and taking a break here and there for snacks. The flower was almost done but it felt like it was missing something, so I started to paint the background a light blue color while also trying not to interfere with the already painted flower which I had worked so hard on.

I danced as good, classic songs came on, and I shuffled across the floor, twirling my brush in my hand and swaying my hips to the various beats. I bobbed my head in unison to the beat of the drums and smiled widely; I rarely felt this good. 

I checked the clock above the stove which now read 11:27 PM in bright red lettering. I simply smiled, knowing I would have to finish-up sometime soon; but I continued painting until the clock read 12:03 AM.

I shook my head and started to wash-out my brushes in the sink next to me, careful to remove as much paint as I could from them; they were brand new brushes afterall. I then dried them off, placing them neatly next to eachother.

I gathered all of my paints together and lined them up in the order of the rainbow next to my collection of brushes. Lastly, I washed my hands from any paint I had missed, turned off all of the lights, and walked into the living room, down the hall, and into my bedroom.

I turned off my music and plugged in my dying phone which was now at 25%. I grabbed my pj's, consisting of a pair of sweatpants, a tank top, and a sweatshirt and went to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed.

I quickly changed and hurried back to my room, turning off all of the lights, and laying down under my mounds of covers and blankets, closing my eyes in hope of sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*

I awoke with a start, breathing irregularly and heart hammering in my chest. I brushed the stray hairs out of my face and looked at the now streaming sun coming through my window. I glanced over at the clock on my wooden nightstand; it read 10:47 AM. I groaned and laid back down, knowing that today was the last day of winter break.

I laid there, remembering the hell hole of a place my school was, with the teachers who loved to give homework just for the pure fun of it and all of my so-called friends.

I was never really popualr, I mean, yeah, I got along well with my peers, but I never liked being center of attention. No, I'm not "shy", in fact, I hate being called that word. If I really must be labeled, at least get the term correct: social anxiety.

And let's not forget the panic attacks that come with it, or also the fact that I have depression with all of this, too. Let's just say my life hasn't been easy, whatsoever.

Some days I love what I see in the mirror, and other days I just wish I would not be able to wake up at all. I have a roads' worth of insecurities and school doesn't help at all, because I feel like I'm constantly being judged so I'm always on-edge.

I sighed aloud. I was so sick of battling my mind everday; why couldn't my mental health illnesses just take a lifelong break? I drew in a long breath and closed my eyes, trying to calm down and not think about school starting up again; of course, that didn't last very long.

I rolled over and looked back at my clock; 11:02 AM it read. I sighed again and groaned internally.

Today was going to be a long-but-very-short-kind-of-a-day.

I closed my eyes in concentration, wondering why I had woken up with fear pumping through my veins. I never had nightmares, but when I did, they were never so traumatizing to have me awake so suddenly. I opened my eyes, frustrated; they say you forget 90% of your dream after an alloted time, but it's only been a couple of minutes. I sighed, so tired, and gave up on trying to remember.

* * *

I was finally able to drag myself out of the warmth and comfort of my bed when the noon whistle went off, which then make my stomach growl in protest.

I collected my clothes for the day: sweatpants, a tank top, and a sweatshirt, and marched into the bathroom. Before I closed the door, I had to quickly run back into my room to grab my phone, which I quickly did.

The notification light at the top was blinking green, telling me I had unread messages. I opened them up, seeing they were from my friend Sari.

The messages said: 

"Hey, I just wanted to remind you that my birthday party is going to be Friday after school into Sunday morning (if you're able to stay that long), and you just need to bring your daily necessities, but don't go too overboard :D" 

"Torin, Marley, Brie, Austin, Peter, and Daiten are coming too. You, Marley, and Brie will be the only ones staying overnight though :)" 

"Just wanted to let you know :)"

I laughed at how serious Sari took her birthday parties and also at how she insisted on reminding me on everyday last week leading up to her party date. God, this girl was something alright.

* * *

Exiting the bathroom--definitely not ready to face the day ahead--I walked towards the kitchen, passing my parents sitting in the living room, who were enjoying a John Wayne movie on TV.

"Good morning, or should I say afternoon," my mother patiently said to me with a smirk, waiting for my response, which was only a small laugh.

My dad was ready to say something, but before the precious words could leave his mouth, I already knew what he was going to say.

"You know, (Y/N), you need to start going to bed earlier. None of this staying up late crap. I know you were on your phone last night; I could hear you laughing, which was at 2 in the morning! How are you supposed to get up at 6 o'clock tomorrow, huh? If you keep this up, I won't let you go to Sari's"

All the while he preached at me, I didn't hear most of it, because I was just worried about food. Oh yes, priorities, (Y/N ), priorities, I thought with a smirk on my face as I walked into the kitchen.

* * *

I raided the kitchen for any edible food I could find, but I settled on some leftover fish from the fridge and a bag of chips and a granola bar from the cupboards. As my "main course" heated up, I sat down at the kitchen table and dived into the bag of chips, eating it until there were no crumbs on the bottom, and scrolled through my social media accounts, laughing or smiling at some of the posts.

My older brother walked into the kitchen with his usual outfit of jeans, camouflage shirt, and no socks. We gave eachother small nods as he searched the kitchen for food too and settled on a bag of beef jerky, a mountain dew, and a napkin filled with a few cookies. We nodded at eachother again as he left and I just gave a soft laugh.

The microwave went off, signaling my food was done and ready to be consumed. I got up from the table and grabbed my food, but my cat intercepted me on the way and meowed at my feet, picking her lips. I smiled down at her as I sat back down and cut up a few pieces for her, which I threw on the floor for her to mop-up.

* * *

It was going on 4 in the afternoon and I was just so tired, as I leaned against the counter, working on the flower painting. Not exactly the kind of tired that sleep could fix either--the kind of tired that took years to fix, with lots of hugs and compliments in the process--but I was also tired from a lack of a good night's sleep. Whoops. I'm just kind of falling apart at the seams, I guess you could say; I'm just looking for a break, in all honesty.

I sighed for what seemed like the 100th time that day, and closed my eyes and rested my head in my hands with my elbows on the counter. I rubbed my eyes and then quickly gained my composure as I heard someone coming into the kitchen; yeah, my hearing was fairly well.

"How's the paintin' goin'?" my dad asked me as he peeked over my shoulder, admiring the picture like he has always done when I painted.

"Nearly finished. Just hoping I can get it all painted, dried, and wrapped before the weekend.", I relied.

He nodded in approval. "Of course you'll get it done, you always do," he said as he put his right hand on my left shoulder.

I smiled weakly at him as he smiled back which made the wrinkles by his eyes stand out. He removed his hand from my shoulder and left the kitchen. God, my dad was so supportive and so caring; what would I do without him?

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ****TRIGGER WARNING****
> 
>  
> 
> ****TRIGGER WARNING****
> 
>  
> 
> ****TRIGGER WARNING****
> 
>  
> 
> ****TRIGGER WARNING****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****TRIGGER WARNING****
> 
>  
> 
> ****TRIGGER WARNING****
> 
>  
> 
> ****TRIGGER WARNING****
> 
>  
> 
> ****TRIGGER WARNING****
> 
>  
> 
> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*

It was already 8 o'clock at night, but I had already given up on painting the picture, so I was sitting on the bed in my room, trying to calm down.

Sometimes I get my "bad days", where my thoughts go from loving myself to hating myself in a flash. I'll look in the mirror and hate what I see and I'll just want to scream and cry and destroy everything in sight, including myself--although, I already destroy myself almost everyday anyways.

My parents and basically everyone in my family or circle of acquaintances didn't know about my alternate side. Sari, though, knew about some of the stuff like my depression, anxiety, and self-harming capabilities; she never told another soul on her swearing word not to.

I just didn't want my parents to worry about me, because I already knew they had enough on their plates, so I just kept to myself mostly. Besides, I felt like I would be seeking attention if I told them, but they would probably dismiss me saying that I was "too young, and haven't experienced life yet". God, stuff like that made me so mad. 

I have been through so many terrible and traumatizing experiences and my life hasn't always been so great like they've all believed.

Oh no, I was making this pain even more worse than what it needed to be. I placed my head in my hands, closing my eyes.

I was overthinking everything at the moment, including school, which was starting up again tomorrow since winter break was finally over. I dreaded the thoughts of school and teachers and homework and added stress and people looking at you with those certain looks and--wow, I need to stop, I need to stop.

I combed my hair back with my fingers and tried to breathe evenly, but the panic attack hit me head-on. I stood up, pacing, only making the panic attack worse. I kept combing my hair back, trying to calm down, but yet trying to release all of my built up emotion.

I argued with myself while cussing to my heart's content. I paced back and forth across the length of my bedroom, careful to not step on the random things like clothes, empty waterbottles, and pencils laying carelessly forgotten on the floor. I stepped over the certain spots on the floor where I knew they would creak, because I didn't want my parents to know that I was having a pacing session in my room.

I groaned aloud from being so stupid for making myself panic in the first place. Oh wow, the blame game again. Jeez.

I sat back down on my bed, making it squeak beneath me. I put my head in my hands again, trying to breathe evenly, but my panic attack wouldn't go away; it usually took a few minutes, but never this long. God, I couldn't take this anymore. 

I checked my phone for any messages, but none were to be seen. The digital clock on my phone read that it was almost 9 o'clock, so I grabbed a new pair of sweatpants, a tank top, long-sleeve camo t-shirt, and the other necessities from my pile of clothes on the floor. 

I got up from my bed, looking at the floor as I walked, shuffling my feet, and opened my door, stepping out into the hallway to head into the bathroom--wait, what hallway?

I was standing in the middle of a motel room, with two big men looking at me. Did I just emerge from their closet? I dropped my pile of clothes, and stood in complete shock as the two men stared at me.

Oh dear lord--I panicked even more, grabbing my chest as I ran to their bathroom, slamming the door and locking it.

I kneeled on the floor, shaking, confused, and so very scared.

* * *

I was rocking back and forth next to the blue bathtub, as far away from the door as possible, trying to get my panic attack to go away, but if anything, it only got worse when I magically stepped into this motel room, occupied by two large, intimidating, and very scary men.

I could hear their giant boots shuffling outside the door, and soon their were knocks on the door, followed by one of the men speaking.

"Hey, it's okay. Open the door, we won't hurt you, I promise," he rambled.

I didn't bother moving--hell, they could kick down the door for all I cared, as long as they wouldn't trigger my panic attack even more. God, I just wanted to be at home; I buried my head between my knees and wrapped my arms over my head.

I could hear the men arguing behind the door. I could make out a few words like "trust a random girl","panic attack","be nice, Dean", "figure it out".

Then the knocking started again, only more forceful and the other man spoke, almost shouting through the door.

"Hey, we just want to talk. Unlock the door."

I cleared my throat and spoke with more courage than I knew I possessed, but my voice still shook with each word.

"Please, just let me calm down first. I'm in the middle of a panic attack and I would like to live to see tomorrow."

A heavy silence clung to the air from both sides of the door, but soon it was disrupted when the kinder one spoke up, sofly knocking on the door.

"Take as much time as you need to compose yourself. This must be all very confusing for you, and us too, but we'll figure it out, okay?"

When I didn't reply he asked again in a more forceful tone, "Okay?"

I released the breath I didn't know I had been holding and said, "Okay," from my little cocoon.

Their footsteps receded away from the door as they were arguing, but not loud enough so I could catch a few words. A chair was being moved across the floor as someone sat down there, and then a bed squeaked from a newly added weight there.

I stayed in my little cocoon of comfort for at least ten minutes, but I wasn't keeping track of time; I was a little preoccupied at the moment.

I slowly raised my head and took in my surroundings. I was to the right of the tub and the left of the toilet. A brown rug hugged the floor and wrapped around the counter where the sink and bathroom necessities were placed; a rectangle mirror hung above the counter and swung open to place other bathroom goodies. Two of the three bulbs above the mirror were working, but seemed to be making an irritating buzzing sound.

I slowly stood from the floor and examined myself in the mirror as I leaned heavily on the counter. My face was pale, but had a tinge of pink by my cheeks and forehead; hopefully I wouldn't go through any more trauma, or else I might faint. My (Y/H/C) hair was cooperating at the momet, but it would probably be frizzy by the time I finally decided to exit the bathroom; my adrenaline and courage were fading fast. My (Y/E/C) eyes were bloodshot, but carried enough life in them to walk out that door.

I looked down, still leaning against the counter, and closed my eyes. Using the ticking of the clock as my guide, I breathed in for 5 seconds, held it for 6, exhaled for 8, and repeated it for what felt like an eternity.

I pushed back from the counter, but checked my composure in the mirror one more time before quietly unlocking the door and slowly stepping out to face these mystery men.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*

My eyes were closed when I exited the bathroom, because I wanted to open them and see my bedroom, or the hallway, or just any part of my house or part of my old life.

But I wasn't that lucky.

I was never lucky.

Like my dad used to...No, like my dad ALWAYS says. I couldn't give up on my family; there was no way they could be...gone.

But anyways, dad always says, "If it weren't for bad luck, we would have no luck at all"

And by God, if only he could see all of this panning out before his little girl.

First, I opened my eyes to get water splashed in my face and a blade dragged across my skin.

Secondly, I freaked out. Wide-eyed-somebody-stole-my-baby freaked out.

Thirdly, full-on panic attack in less than 10 seconds of getting rid of one. And I didn't have my meds with me either, so, yeah, bad luck was playing on loop at the moment.

I gasped and clutched at my chest as if I could really grab my heart and keep it from freaking out.

I looked at the shocked and confused expressions plastered on the men's faces, before things got blurry and fuzzy around the edges.

One thing led to another and all of a sudden, I'm falling and hitting my head on the hardwood floor, and everything just goes completely black.

* * * * *

I'm dreaming.

I'm at least pretty sure I'm dreaming, or else when I was awake I was actually dreaming, but right now I'm not dreaming and I'm actually awake--Okay, that's just weird...and slightly confusing.

I'm laying down in my own bed, my real bed, at home. All of my artwork up on the walls, including ones I bought at art fairs, all of the pictures of my friends and family, and all of the motivational quotes hanging up on the mirror of my dresser.

I looked around me even more.

My clothes piled up on the floor, my books crookedly-but neatly stacked up in a corner, my cross necklaces and rosaries hanging up at opposite ending of my room--all of my stuff--all of my life--still here, as if I never left, or as if I never dreamed of that weird world.

Wait a minute...

I sat up, making the mattress beneath me groan as I looked at myself in the mirror of my dresser. I was wearing my pajamas--but of course I would be wearing my pajamas, because that was just a dream, and I was able to put them on when I walked into the bathroom--but of course.

I laughed softly, shaking my head, telling myself it was just a dream and that I had nothing to worry about, because this was real.

I looked over at my curtains, barely letting in the morning sun. I jumped out of bed and headed into the hallway, not even bothering to grab my phone or check the clock to see what time it was, before entering the bathroom.

God, who would have thought that they missed their own bathroom? Apparently me.

I checked myself in the mirror and gave my arm a good pinch, and also checking to see if I had a mark from that knife. No mark. Of course not!

It was a dream, (Y/N), it was just a dream...even though it felt so real.

Before leaving the bathroom, I checked the clock and saw it read 9:30 AM.

I left the bathroom and walked into the kitchen--wait, what?

I looked behind me and saw the living room, then I looked down to see myself already in my day clothes; jeans, a long sleeve, and a sweatshirt.

Oh no. No, no, no. This isn't happening. None of this is real? Oh dear Lord! What is happening? What is even going on? What is real and what isn't?

"Shit," I mumbled to myself.

I paced around and even opened a few cupboards and then the fridge.

I turned around and I'm in the hallway of my school, standing next to my locker, with my so-called friends. They're taking turns talking, but I can't hear what they're saying; it's all just mumbled.

I blink to find myself back at home, standing outside in the backyard. My parents and siblings are standing in front of me, facing me, with their heads down. My mom's arm is hooked around my dad; my brother and sister are holding hands.

A stranger walks over, wearing a business suit, but I can't make out his or her face--it's too blurry and it's almost like it keeps on shifting, not being able to decide on what to look like.

He raises his right hand and suddenly my entire family is spasmming in our backyard. I try to move, try to cry out, try to do anything--but all I can do is watch.

But just as soon as the spasm fits started, they're gone. And as I thought too soon, there are flames dancing along the grass, licking up the pants legs of my family.

They all look up at me, and I expect to see their pained expressions, but their eyes are black and they have no hint of pain on their face. They all smile wickedly at me, taking slow strides forward, still hanging onto each other.

The mystery man has vanished by now and I'm left alone, unsure of how to react or what to do. I move my legs, expecting them to still be glued down to the ground, but I can move. And God do I run so fast and so far away from the fire and my family. 

I'm running down the street of our home when my legs give out from under me. I seem to fall for eternity, seeing colors of blacks and reds dancing around me, and feeling fire tear at my skin. I still can't utter a single sound, but if I could, my screams would have made me deaf my now.

Suddenly, I'm not falling anymore, and I'm not in Hell--or Heaven--I'm not laying in the road, and I'm not back at my house, because I can tell the difference between my bed sheets and the starched cloth of motel sheets wrapped around me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*

I was floating inbetween the lines of consciousness and sleep, but I pushed back the urges to fall back into the soothing pit of darkness.

The only thing tethering me to this world was the sound of voices. Male voices. At first, they were indistinct and hard to hear, but then I was able to identify them as the kind one and the asshole. Well, actually, in reality, they were both assholes, considering they cut me and splashed water in my face and made me have another panic attack, causing me to faint from the pure stress and shock.

As I became more and more vivid, the pain in my arm, but mostly my head, started to become more evident, and a small moan escaped my lips, making all of the talking subside.

Their heavy boots thundered over towards me and God did I want to disappear in that moment. I just wanted to be at home with my family and my anxiety meds.

"Is she waking up, Sam?" the--hmm, what nickname should I call him now? Asshole #1 with the I'll-kill-you-with-my-bare-hands-voice? Oh yes. I'll shorten it to A-hole #1, to be said easier.

And now I knew the A-hole #2's name was Sam, but personally, I like the nickname better. But that's just me.

I suppressed my need to laugh and smile, because I don't want them to know I really was awake; I deeply wished this all was just a dream--and quite unfortunately, I would have to face these two eventually.

The bed beneath me shifted, signifying someone sat down next to me--wow, it was so hard to keep still knowing that two people were staring at me intently. Oh no, I need to stop that, or else I'll start panicking again. God, if only I had my meds with me.

A freakishly large hand touched my forehead, as if checking for a fever. However, the only thing this guy accomplished to do was make my headache 100 times worse as I groaned under his touch.

My eyelids barely fluttered open, trying to let my eyes adjust to the sudden rush of light. I blinked slowly, trying to take in the forms standing and sitting before me. The sasquatch of a man next to me looked like he cared, but the one standing next to him looked beyond annoyed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Dean, want to hand me those pain meds from the first aid kit? Should be on the table. That'll help her," he smiled down at me and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Dean walked off to scavenge through all of their supplies laid out on the table, and I attempted to sit up in the bed. Sam immediately shot his arms out to help me and readjusted the pillow beneath me, making sure I was comfortable.

He smiled at me again, and I wanted to punch that smile off of his face--which I did. I swung my uninjured arm and knocked him off of the bed with the crack of this nose. I shook my hand from the slight sting--that definitely wasn't the first time I punched a guy in the face before.

Dean instantly turned around from his task for looking for the small bottle of pain meds, and rushed over to his acquaintance, hauling him up by his shoulders and settling him down on the bed next to the one I occupied.

Oh wow, if looks could kill--Dean stared at me in shock and disgust before looking back at Sam.

"You alright, bro?"

Sam looked at me, then back at Dean as he held his bloody nose. "I'll be fine."

Dean released Sam's shoulders, turning all of his attention on me--I never wanted to disappear so badly like now.

"What the hell?" he roared at me, making me pull at the covers up to my chin and close my eyes.

"Hey," he yelled again, grabbing at my injured arm, making me wince and open my eyes, "What's your problem? We're trying to help you! At least, he's trying to help you, I could care less right about now."

I was able to gather my courage--and my voice--to look up into his deadly green eyes and say, "Right," I shook my arm from his grasp, grabbing at the thin bandage over my cut, "That's why you attacked me and made me have another panic attack. And if you aren't careful, I'm just gonna have another one, so if you kindly could stop yelling, that would be nice." I whispered the last part, closing my eyes and putting my head down.

He stood there, staring at me--I knew because I could feel his eyes boring deep into my soul. Eventually, Sam spoke up from his spot on the bed next to me--Thank God he did.

"Dean," and with that one call of his name, Dean turned around to face Sam, and they seemed to have a silent conversation with their eyes and facial expressions. Dean sighed and turned back towards me, sitting down next to me, putting his hand on mine. I jumped a little, not knowing what to expect from him.

"Listen. You magically walked through our closet and took refuge on the bathroom; we only took necessary precautions--"

"Dean," Sam cut in angrily, giving his acquaintance a level 10 bitch-face.

"Oh, alright, alright. I'll give her "the talk"" Dean said shaking his head at his friend before turning back to look at me, "Okay, Sam and I are brothers; we're the Winchesters. We hunt things that go bump in the night; you name it, we most likely hunt it--vampires, werewolves, ghosts, demons--the list goes on. There's something special about you though, that's why you must have popped through our closet. But don't worry, we'll figure it out together." 

He patted my hand and gave me a small smile, which I didn't return because I was too caught up on trying to process what he just said.

This asshole and this sasquatch were brothers? And they do what? Hunt monsters? What are they, an upgraded version of the "Ghostbusters"? And how in the hell was he able to calm down and not rip my head off as he told me all of this? What. Was. Going. On?

I released the breath I didn't know I had been holding and slowly nodded, still not meeting his eyes, trying to make him understand that I was still processing.

He patted my hand again and sat down next to his brother who was finally able to get his bleeding nose under control. I looked at them both as they they looked at me. Then, I saw a man appear out of thin air behind them, and I sucked in a breath, already feeling my heart beat over-time. At first, it looked like I could see--wings?

"Oh Lord," I whispered.

The two boys noticed my expression and heard my whisper of surprise and turned around as I kept on staring, unsure if I was dreaming about him appearing and having...wings...


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*

"Well actually," the man said with a gruff voice, "I'm an angel OF the Lord. I'm Castiel."

I couldn't stop staring into those deep, blue eyes of his--nor his outfit, for that matter: a tan trechcoat, with a fitted-black suit, complete with a crooked tie with diagonal stripes. Yes, because this was definitely screaming the word "angel"...right.

However, considering the facts that he had just appeared out of nowhere and also the little talk Dean just gave me a couple of minutes ago, I was almost willing to believe about anything right now--just almost.

By this point, Dean and Sam had turned around and were now staring at my bewildered expression; the least they could do was cut me some slack--I've already been through so much within hours time.

"Sam. What happened to you?" Castiel asked as he rounded the bed Dean and Sam were still occupying, "Do you want me to heal you?"

"Oh dear God," I whispered this time, still staring and still not beliving that this man standing before me was an angel. An. Angel. A real, living, breathing, winged angel. I'm at least pretty sure I saw wings...

"Although you may find comfort in it," he tured towards me, "prayers do not always reach Heaven. My Father has not answered prays in... a while. Heaven, indeed, has been busy," he finally said, turning back towards Sam, placing two fingers on his forehead.

Then...

Then wow happened.

Castiel stepped away so I could see that Sam's bloody nose was fixed, with no blood in sight, and I fainted for the second time that day.

If only I had my meds with me.

* * *

I shot up from the laying position I was in, and almost banged my head against the angel sitting next to me--wait? Angel? Next to me?

I gasped as if I had been under water for too long and Castiel reached out his hand, but I quickly backed away, losing my hold on the covers, and tumbling to the floor, bringing half of the sheets with me.

I mumbled a few choice words as I heard a lot of shuffling around me. Next thing I know, strong arms are wrapping themselves around me and I'm being lifted back up onto the bed. Green eyes meet my hazel eyes, and at this point, I was ready to scream and cry and run away from all of this.

I didn't want to be here. Why did God--well, according to Castiel, the Big Man hasn't been around, so I guess I can blame Him, right? I mean...let me gather my thoughts.

There had to be a reason why--a VERY good reason why---I magically appeared in this Hell-hole of a motel; but should I even compare it to Hell? Who knows, maybe I'll pop up there next.

And by the way! What are all of the angels doing? Castiel seems to enjoy hanging out with these two pain-in-the-asses, but where in the world is my guardian angel? Where in the world was any angel? You know how many disasters and deaths and attacks have been going on? Where have the angels been?

I was so caught up in my extending train of thoughts that I hadn't even noticed that they were shaking me and trying to bring me back to reality. I drew in a long and shaky breath, but didn't release it.

Dean was on his knees, staring at me, even snapping his fingers a couple of times. Sam was also kneeling next to me, but far enough back to give me some space. Castiel was--I don't know; I couldn't see him at the moment, so he was either standing behind us by the kitchen area or he pooffed-off again.

"Hey, hey, hey, "Dean said while lightly shaking my shoulders, "You okay? You having another one of your attacks?"

"Attacks? Like a heart attack?" Castiel asked, slightly tilting his head and squinting his eyes in confusion.

Dean looked up annoyed and I caught a glimpse of Sam next to me on the floor do the same. If you couldn't tell they were brothers, they're similar facial expressions gave it away.

I released the breath I had been holding for so long and gasped again, putting my hands on my knees and bending my head down, closing my eyes. Dean's hands were still on my shoulders and that felt a little more reassuring.

The distant sound of the clock in the kitchen area, helped me calm down to a bareable amount as I did my breathing exercise. Sam seemed to understand immediately and followed with me, punching Dean in the shoulder to do the same; which he did, before rolling his eyes at his little brother.

I was able to steady my voice--still bent forward with my eyes closed--to ask, "What time is it?"

When I didn't get an answer, I asked again, but Castiel answered.

"Time is simply irrelevant. Before God created--"

"Alright, Cas," Sam spoke up, "Don't need to go into detail, as much as you want to, just don't."

He glanced up the clock and turned back towards me, "It's going on midnight--roughly. Why?"

I smiled a bit and let out a small laugh, which startled them. Dean slowly released my shoulders, sensing I wanted to move. I picked my head back up and combed my hair back with my fingers and opened my eyes, still smiling.

"I wasn't able to take my pills before I popped in here. That's why I've been off all night. And that's why I've been panicking so much. And why my brain won't stop working overtime--making me panic in the first place."

I drooped my head again, this time, resting it on the palms of my hands; my elbows sat on my legs. Sam reached an arm out, patting my shoulder with his sasquatch-hand.

"Why don't we get some sleep, and we'll figure it out in the morning, okay?"

"Actually, it is--" Castiel started to say.

"Cas!" both Sam and Dean shouted at him.

"Don't you have some angel business to attend to? We'll call you when we're ready to move out tomorrow. Go have some fun or something," Dean said to the angel.

In a sound of a "whoosh", Castiel was gone, and I was staring wide-eyed at the place where he was standing. Arms wrapping around my back and underneath my knees sent me out of my staring session.

Dean had a hold of me, placing me back down on the bed as Sam fixed the covers, pulling them back up. They both smiled down at me and I yawned in return.

"You go to sleep; you need it," Dean said as he walked over to the couch on my left, unraveling the blankets to get comfy.

"We all need it," Sam intervened with a small laugh, walking over to the bed to my right.

It was silent for a while, so I quickly rolled over onto my stomach and pretended to be asleep as the lights around me were turned off. I drew in a breath, slowly letting it go, remembering all of the crazy situations that happened today; between the panic attacks, the nightmare, and the angel--this was a new low.

* * *

When I heard the loud snoring coming from both sides of me, I attempted to quietly climb out of the bed, tip-toeing over to my extra clothes. They were piled up nicely on the counter top in the kitchen next to their green duffel bags.

I grabbed my clothes, stole a couple of pairs of socks from one of the boys' bag, and also the 20 dollars I saw sitting in one of the open bags--hey, I had to get home somehow. I tip-toed to the door, praying it would open softly, which--thankfully--it did.

Once I slipped outside, I ran--God I ran so fast. Just before I had left, I had checked the time and it had been going on 3 in the morning. Unfortunately, I didn't know where I was so I didn't know how far home was at this point.

I made it to a gas station, asking about my location and the closest route to a bus station without trying to sound panicky to the man working behind the counter at 3 in the morning.

Illinois. Oetick, Illinois, which just so happened to be on the border of my home state and also a good 3 or 4 hours away from my home in Wisconsin. The closest bus station was right outside and luckily made trips into Wisconsin. The man behind the counter also said I looked like hell and could use a good vacation--I couldn't agree more. I thanked him as I ran into the woman's bathroom to take in my 'hell-like' state.

My face was still pale with my bloodshot eyes. My hair was frizzed and oily at the roots. My clothes were dusty from my trip and the socks I had borrowed without permission were starting to rip apart at the bottom. I groaned loudly and I just wanted to smash my face into the dirty mirror.

I looked over my clothes in hand and quickly changed before a knock at the door startled me. Luckily, it was only the guy from the front desk. 

"Miss? The bus is here. Just thought I would let you know."

Collecting myself and my possessions, I ran out the door, but was stopped short when a strong hand grabbed my arm. Again, it was only the guy from the front desk.

"Here," he said, holding out a bag for my clothes; I quickly placed them in there.l and got ready to go before he stopped me again, "and this too. You still look like hell."

He held out another bag with an assortment of food and other things I couldn't make out. I gave him a quick hug before rushing outside to hop onto the bus to head back home.

I paid my ticket and took a seat in the far back, noticing only a few other people on board. I pulled my hood over my head and dived into the food, which my stomach gladly thanked. I stated to nod off once we crossed over the Illinois-Wisconsin border and I finally let the need of sleep overtake me.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*

An angel stood before me--I was at least 99.5% sure it was an angel. She had gold and blue wings outstretched from her back, glittering in the morning sun rising over the hill from where she stood. Her flowing brown hair lightly moved in the spring breeze and so did her blood-red dress. Although I couldn't see her face, she radiated beauty, strength, and hope.

Suddenly, her wings turned into a deep red and deathly black color. Her dress was racked in flames, slowly climbing up further and further, consuming her wings, her hair, and eventually her entire body.

The sun, which was rising and making the sky beautiful pinks and yellows, was now sinking back under the sky, making everything black and blue; there were no stars to be seen.

Everything was completely cold and eerily radiated evil.

Everything was silent.

Until I heard the screaming.

I turned around and my family was inside a small circle of fire which licked at their feet, legs, hands, basically everything. They clutched onto each other, trying to stay away from the burning heat, leaving their skin rough and red, as the circle got smaller and smaller. Eventually, the circle became so small, their screams magnified, stinging my ear drums and making tears flow from my once-dry eyes.

I squeezed my eyes shut and fell down to my knees, holding my hands to my ears, trying to make it all go away.

But I just heard more screaming.

And the feeling of being shaked.

And hearing someone talking.

And suddenly I woke up on the bus, to the bus driver shaking me awake.

He looked at me with kind eyes, the wrinkles by his eyes squishing together.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he said, "but you were having a bad dream, and you're at your stop."

*

I was in Washboro Grove, about 20 minutes from my house. I had asked the driver what time it was before I had stepped off and he told me it was going on 7 AM. Monday morning.

I walked all the way to my home, feeling the pavement beneath my feet, scrape and claw at my once perfect skin; I should have stole some shoes...

Five minutes had passed and I noticed the sun was slowly coming over the horizon, signifying many people to get up and go to work, go to school, do this, do that. But yet here I was, walking home in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, carrying a bag of extra clothes and food, looking completely lost even though I had a destination in mind.

I didn't see many cars, probably because I was walking along the back roads, taking shortcuts across corn and pea fields, sneaking through back yards, and jumping fences.

I sighed, knowing that I would be home soon, picturing my nice comfy bed, food, and people that I knew. Not to mention my anxiety meds. God how have I missed those dearly.

I was about half way home when "nature was calling". I groaned in frustration, trudging through a bundle of wooded land to make a quick 'pit-stop'. Finding the perfect bush to do my business in, I did my business.

I was about to walk back towards the direction of my house when a sound deeper in the trees caught my attention. I stopped, lisetning, and then I heard something running...towards me.

I bolted, leaving my supplies behind, feeling the twigs beneath my feet cutting into me even more, as the trees behind me seemed to be exploding. I ran and ran, feeling my anxiety levels sky-rocket

I bursted out into the clearing of a field, feeling branches scratch at my back, and one branch catching me behind the knee, sending me falling into the moist dirt. Something or someone landed on top of me...and that's all I remember until my world turns dark.

* * *

Bone-chilling cold metal is what wakes me up back into reality. At first, I slowly lifted my head, trying to take in my surroundings to find out where I am. My head hits metal and I groan silently, feeling a splitting headache coming on already from my previous fall. My feet aren't even touching the cement, but I can feel the chill rising from it.

At this point, I slowly started to realize I am bound to a metal chair in some kind of dark room; my eyes can't even make anything out in the darkness...probably because I'm blindfolded.

I tap the metal of the chair, listening to it echo in the room, trying to guesstimate my position and how big the room really is.

From this, I decided I am centered about a couple feet from the back wall, with about several feet to my right and left, and a dozen feet from the front of the room. Survival Skills 101 with (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N).

As well as my hearing is, footsteps are coming down a long hallway and approaching a door which leads into this room. I quickly drop my head, pretending to still be unconscious when a metal door creaks open with shoes thundering towards me.

Seriously though? What's up with all of the metal?

"Is she awake?" a male voice asks, not at all concerned, but in a very annoyed tone.

"One way to find out," another one says; you could almost hear his grin from his tone.

Suddenly, a shooting pain is coming from my thigh, and I can only guess that I got stabbed. I gasp aloud, rising my head and resting it against the back of the chair, and clenching my jaw in pain, not wanting them to see me cry out--not wanting them to see me weak.

"Well, well," the grinner said in a cheery tone, "looks like she's awake now, huh?"

It took all of my will-power to control my breathing and form my words.

"What. Do you. Want?" I asked, puffing in air heavily.

Both of the men chuckled, and I could feel the knife in my thigh be twisted, making a sickening sound and making my stomach turn in speedy circles. I couldn't help but yell out in pain, my voice bouncing off of the walls, obviously pleasing the two men.

"Now what we want darlin', are those friends of yours," the annoyed one said.

God, I need to give these guys nicknames; unfortunately, asshole #1 and asshole #2 are already taken. So, the grinner will be the all-new, 100% upgraded A-1, and the other one will be A-2. How fucking convenient.

I took several deep breathsea before asking, "What friends?"

That only made me receive a punch to the face and someone grabbing onto the front of my shirt. I could feel someone's hot and stinky breath all over my face and I tried so hard not to puke everywhere. God, don't even think about puking, (Y/N).

"You sure as hell know that we are talking about those Winchester boys. They were hunting down our nest before you came along, and we should be thanking you for delaying them, because now we were able to get away--here. However, you're either going to be dinner for a few nights or bait, but I figured, why not both?"

My head is being forcefully tilted to the side and teeth are suddenly breaking into my skin, feasting on my blood. I scream, praying that the pain would just go away. And soon, it does, until another pair of teeth are breaking my skin, and I can feel my blood sliding down my neck and chest.

Soon, the second one is done and I'm receiving another blow to the head, making everything go fuzzy.

"And by the way," A-1 says, "You're family has also been keeping us company."

They both laughed as they walked away from me towards the door, and my world turned dark for the millionth time in my life. 

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't been updating this one or my other one as oftenly as I should, but I've been busy...
> 
>  
> 
> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*

Screams are what woke me up out of my unconscious state. And quite unfortunately, I recognized the screams, which belonged to my parents.

I was still situated in the chair, mental cuffs digging into my wrists and legs which were fiesty colors of purples and reds. I slowly lifted my head, feeling the pounding headache making me nauseous, forcing me to close my eyes and take deep breaths so I wouldn't spill my empty stomach everywhere.

When I was finally able to open my eyes with little.pain, that's when I saw the horrors before me. And god, how I wished this was all just a nightmare--a really terrible and confusing nightmare.

There had to be at least five or six of those vampires, and they were about 6 feet away from me, snacking on my parents who were now completely quiet. I closed my eyes, unable to look at the scene before me anymore. I prayed and hoped that they were still alive, just only unconscious at the moment.

A vampire had walked over to me and started to comb his fingers through my frizzy hair, making me flinch each time he moved his hand from my roots to my split ends. He drew a finger along my jawline, enjoying my levels of being uncomfortable as I squirmed and tried not to cry under his touch.

I could feel his hot breath on my neck, making the hairs on my body stand on edge and making my skin crawl. I was so distracted with my eyes still closed and my body on high alert, I hadn't even noticed he had drawn a blade and was now trailing it down my cheek, along my chest and arms, and down my legs, only to repeat the process over and over again.

After what felt like hours or days, he stopped, raising the blade high up above his shoulder, curving it down into my thigh where I had been previously wounded. Taken completely by suprise, I gasped for air before I let out a yell of pain. Taking it back out, he licked the blade coated in my dark red blood and smirked at me, patting me on the cheek as if I was being a good sport about all of this.

Now if only I could punch his smile off of his face...

*

Being locked up for so long--well, it had only been three days if I've been counting correctly--I have had time to think about things, stress, and panic. But not necessarily in that order.

I knew that the vampires have probably called my school, posing as one of my parents or a family member to tell them that I won't be in.

Secondly, I was hoping that this Sam and Dean Winchester people would find me soon. I was, afterall, what they call a "damsel in distress".

Thirdly, I was worried about my parents and my siblings and my friends, but it wasn't like I could do much for them now anyways...

Fourthly, things in this room were starting to get ripe, considering I had puked up my empty stomach a few hours ago, due to the rotten smells of flesh and blood flooding into my nostrils each time I took a labored breath.

In my new version of "spare time", I tried to stay as lucid and vivid as possible by daydreaming, rather than falling asleep in case I missed something important. However, with lack of blood, nutrition, and sleep, I've been having these weird hallucinations or visions that give me such painful headaches to the point where it feels like my skull is being ripped in half.

*

I start to come to as I hear the metal door creaking open. I stay still with my.head still slumped forward, hoping they'll leave me alone if they pretend I'm sleeping.

Heavy boots thundered across the cement, echoing, and suddenly strong hands are gently lifting my head and working on getting the metal cuffs off of my bruised body.

"She still breathing?" a male's voice asks from my left, but it sounds like it's coming from miles away.

"Yeah, she'll be fine; I'll call Cas once we're back to the hotel. She's a tough one," the male in front of me says, gain sounding like it's coming from so far away.

I struggle to flutter my eyes open, but when I do, the greenest eyes are staring right back at me, and those are the last things I see before my world turns black.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it's short, but I'll try to update it tomorrow morning :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to update as often as I can :/
> 
> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*

It's freezing. The snow is swirling around me and I can see my breath forming in the crisp and chilly air, which soon disappears as I become colder and colder. I turn around in circles, hugging my arms around me, trying to see through this blizzard.

And that's when I hear voices, almost as if thousands of people are trying to talk to me at the same time. I circle around over and over, again, eventually picking a path to follow in search of the mysterious stranger or strangers.

My feet are numb as I am only wearing socks to cover them from the snow and cold. My hair is blowing in my face and whipping around me in a torrent of (Y/H/C), blocking my vision.

I come to a cliff, rising high above the blizzard, and it's almost like summer has come. The sun is shining and I no longer feel the cold seeping through my clothes to rest among my bones and veins; I'm at peace....such sweet and joyous peace.

I walk closer to the ledge, feeling the grass lightly poke through my socks to tickle my toes. I look over the edge, seeing rolling hills of green and beautiful trees of reds and yellows and greens.

I smile and let out a smile laugh, extending my arms out to my sides, feeling the sun absorb into my skin and soul. I jump up and down and take a leap of faith over the edge, feeling the light breeze catch at my clothes and hair. But it's so peaceful...so peaceful.

I don't feel the soft grass beneath my feet.

I don't feel the gentle breeze swaying to and fro.

I don't feel the happiness anymore...

I'm no longer dying...

*

I gasp as I sit up too fast, immediately regretting it, feeling the splitting headache come back, and I squeeze my eyes and fists tight from the pain. I roll onto my left side, unable to keep the small cry of pain locked behind my lips as I can feel the deep knife wound in my thigh.

I gasp again as fingers are touching my forehead and I'm back in the summer dream world...

*

I'm wearing a knee-length, white-cotton dress with white flats to match. My (Y/H/C) is curled and pinned behind my head, feeling the curls bounce with each step I take.

The landscape is different now, with a river to my left, leading to a lake, and to the right, fields and fields of never ending flowers--roses, sunflowers, marigolds, poppies, the list goes on and on.

I laughed, feeling the happiness return, and twirled around and around, laughing over and over again.

I dance to the river, kicking off my shoes in the process as I splash my feet into the cool water. I reach my hands under the smooth flow of the river and throw the water up into the air, feeling it splash back down on me.

I wade further down the river leading into the lake, where I attempt to float for a little bit, feeling the sun radiating on my now smiling face. After a few minutes of rwkaxing, I slowly make my way to the bank and dry off on the grass for about an hour with my arms supporting my head.

Time is ticking by, but that doesn't worry me much. I get to my knees and then to my feet, brushing off the grass that got stuck on me in the process.

I run over to the fields of continuing and Heaven-worthy flowers. I brush my hands gently across the blossoms, picking some as I go along, placing them in my hair or tossing them up into the air.

I dance among the flowers, twirling, feeling my body heat pick up as I'm about a mile or two into the fields. The sun is still high, so I walk and run back to the river to cool down.

But once I get there, the river is gone and so is the lake. When I turn around the fields are gone too. The only thing around me was the ankle-high grass, tickling my skin.

The sun is gradually setting to the bottom of the sky and I'm paralyzed. This isn't supposed to happen. Where do I run to? Where's Dean, Sam, and Cas?

I turn around again, hoping that the previous and happy scene around me would return, but it never did.

Suddenly, clouds are forming above me, blocking out the sunset and stars which were just coming out. The wind is picking up and rain is starting to fall, gradually getting heavier to a downpour.

With no shelter in sight, I start running, unsure of where I'm heading or if the ground below me is safe to walk on, let alone run on. With my shoes far behind me, the ground is becoming slick with mud, caking my dress and legs.

I'm now running in the fog, unsure of where I'm going or even if I'm going in the same general direction.

A burning hot pain seared in my left thigh and I'm falling to the ground, feeling the rain soak through my dress even more. The mud is in my hair and splattered on my face and body. I scream as the pain intensifies to an unbearable amount and I grab my thigh in pain, seeing burning-hot red marks on my wound.

A loud 'CLAP' drives away the fog and clouds in a single beat, also making the water and mud disappear, but not the water and mud already soaking my dress, hair, and body.

The pain that was in my thigh, is now gone, as if it never happened. I slowly sat up, looking around me to find I was back next to the river and fields of flowers. I let out a small sound of suprise, feeling the sun giving off heat as it hung up in the sky. My dress and hair are all dried, looking the same way they did when I first arrived in this dream world.

I slowly stood back up, but then felt a pain in my chest--as if my insides were burning and being ripped to shreds. I cried out as I fell back down and suddenly my eyes are wide open as I stare up at the ceiling of the motel, feeling sweat beading on my skin. And is that...an arm in my chest?

Oh no...

I blink and I'm staring up at the blue sky, sprinkled with clouds here and there--a scene I wish I had the talent to paint.

I blink again, still looking up at the breath-taking view above me, not quite sure of what had just happened. I get my heartbeat down to a reasonable pace and again, slowly start to get to my feet. I walk to the bank of the lake, carefully placing my feet in the water to relax for a bit.

And I do.

Living in the dreamworld for an extra eleven hours, but in here, it just feels like seconds and minutes.

*


End file.
